The Right to Revolution
by SuperKateB
Summary: Most everyone knows the story of Queen Serenity as the perfect queen, and the Silver Millenium as a utopia. But what if that was not the case. A slightly-AR retelling of the anime version of the SilMil.


"That, whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it is   
  
the right of the people to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new government,   
  
laying its foundation on such principles, and organizing its powers in such form, as to  
  
them shall seem most likely to affect their safety and happiness."  
  
- Thomas Jefferson, July 4, 1776  
  
"And we shall not be denied that which is our own and of our liberties; and shall  
  
the time come when these things are denied, we shall take our rights in our hands and  
  
rise up, protecting ourselves from what is being denied to us, for no free people should  
  
be forced to live in abject hopelessness, no matter what the cost."  
  
- Beryl Allotte, March 10, 1017  
  
=========================  
  
"The Right to Revolution"  
  
A Sailor Moon Fanfiction  
  
Written by Kate "SuperKate" Butler  
  
=========================  
  
March 3, 1017.  
  
The tavern was dark, rambunctious, and overtaken with cigarette and cigar smoke  
  
as she slipped through the front door, almost wholly unnoticed by the patrons therein.  
  
The day had passed by slowly - too slowly, in her mind - and had given itself away  
  
to night only unwillingly, the sun slipping regretfully behind the distant hills. It  
  
was after this sun disappeared that she moved, pulling on her familiar riding skirts  
  
and shawls and mounting her steed, taking off into the distance until she came to the  
  
tavern, three hours before midnight. The chill night air followed her into the bar and,  
  
as the door whispered shut behind her, she shivered. It would be a cold ride home.   
  
Black shadows moved against black wool shawls as she slid past drunken farmers  
  
and tradesmen alike, avoiding their lecherous smiles and half-hearted advances. Every  
  
night simply repeated the one before, and the inner horror that had first accompanied   
  
being approached by a drunken, middle-aged farmer had long ago faded away into a simple  
  
smile and a shake of her long, amber-red hair. After all, they knew not what they  
  
were doing; they simply came to the tavern as an escape from their day-to-day toil   
  
and trouble, and she couldn't blame them for wanting to escape. After all, she was at  
  
the tavern too, was she not?  
  
The back room of the tavern reeked of smoke and ale as she entered and she   
  
shook her head at the familiar stench, unable to hide her disgust. Her shawls were   
  
shrugged off to reveal a simple, off-white peasant's blouse, and she hung them on the   
  
familiar coat hanger with the four traveling capes that were already present, her black  
  
contrasting greatly with the bold primary colors of the capes.   
  
"You're late." Blue eyes darted in her direction as she took up the seat at  
  
the head of the table, and the blond man to whom the eyes belonged tossed his head  
  
haughtily. "If all of us are meant to get here by sundown, you should be on time, too."  
  
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she pulled a cigar from the box in  
  
the middle of the table and lit it on the room's single candle. "It could not be helped,"  
  
she retorted coolly, crossing her long legs beneath the table. "Pierre is growing   
  
suspicious and insisted that we bed together tonight. I had to feign sickness to get  
  
back into my room." A long draw of the cigar later, she smirked in his direction.   
  
"Besides, Jadeite, you have been late previously, haven't you?"  
  
The blond fidgeted and turned away to face the room's single, high-set window,  
  
and the man beside him rolled his green eyes. "Enough of this," he growled, leaning   
  
forward on his petite elbows. "Did you bring the scroll, Beryl?"  
  
"Of course." She smiled a full, toothy smile as she pulled a scroll case from  
  
her skirts and slid it across the table. He caught it cleanly, small fingers pulling  
  
the plug from the wooden case without difficulty. "The final revision. All we need  
  
for it, really, is a name. And, of course, an army to back us."  
  
"You make it sound so easy." Another man, one with long, platinum hair, flicked  
  
his cigar ashes onto the dirt floor of the back chamber and sighed. "Adamina's army  
  
is strong and large, possibly world-encompassing. Add that to the armies of the other  
  
planets, and then Serenity's guard, and we are a fly to be crushed in their fist."  
  
"Kunzite, you are always an optimist, aren't you?" The fourth man rolled brown  
  
eyes. "Tell me, do you crush a fly in your fist, or with a large boulder? The smaller  
  
our force in comparison with the great Earth army, and the better we fare."  
  
Kunzite, as he had been called, leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms   
  
over his chest. "You cannot be serious, Nephrite," he challenged, voice almost as dark  
  
as the shadows that danced in the corners of the room, unhampered by the dim candlelight.  
  
"If this regime can keep all its people down when our state of living is so low, then - "  
  
"'And the people of this world firmly believe all beings to be equal under a   
  
divine state, and this divine state allows us liberties which cannot be withheld,  
  
including the liberty of living our lives in a fulfilling manner.'" The green-eyed  
  
man brushed a stray strand of brown curls from his face, looking up. "Beryl, this is  
  
brilliant. This entire document... Brilliant."  
  
Beryl shrugged, leaning back in her seat, the red-hot tip of her cigar glowing  
  
in the darkness. "Look at this world we live in," she addressed them plainly, her voice  
  
even and never above the pitch of a loud whisper. "Everywhere, there is poverty. Abject  
  
and hopeless poverty. Crops fail in soil that should not be used for crops, our livestock  
  
die from eating grasses that are poisonous, and every other child that is born does  
  
not see its first birthday." She flicked her ashes onto the table, watching them tumble  
  
over one another. "Every peasant man, woman, and child knows that our world is in dire  
  
straits, but they ignore it and live under this rule. For Serenity is great, and shall  
  
lead us to a new reality. And what does Serenity do?  
  
"Serenity sits on the moon, in her throne, and hosts elaborate masquerades.   
  
Adamina does the same, here, in her Earth-bound palace. And for her people? Poverty.  
  
The continuation of poverty that she promised to eradicate years ago. Poverty that we   
  
cannot abide by, no matter the cost."  
  
Her eyes, dark orbs of purplish blue, darted from face to face, noting the   
  
expressions that surrounded her. Jadeite, as always, looked shockingly unimpressed by the   
  
young woman, his blue eyes distant as he toyed idly with the candle's flame. Beside  
  
him, Zoisite still sat with the scroll parchment in his hands, staring at her with wide  
  
eyes. Kunzite was seated across from Zoisite, a more considerate look on his face as he  
  
took a swig from his ale and glanced over the rim of it and towards the woman who was   
  
busily studying them. And Nephrite, lastly, leaned back in his seat, legs crossed and   
  
arms folded, looking almost like a lion ready for the attack.  
  
"The time has come," Beryl pressed on, "to make Serenity - and Adamina, too -   
  
realize the neglect with which she treats her people. We are not marionettes that can be  
  
stored on a high shelf and allowed to turn dusty. We are living, breathing creatures who  
  
need the nourishment and support of our rulers. At all costs."  
  
Kunzite's mug clattered against the surface of the table. "You do realize what you  
  
are suggesting, correct?" The question was dry and unamused, matching his stoic expression.  
  
"A revolution against Queen Serenity and her subjects could very well be a massacre without  
  
proper support."  
  
"One week." Her voice was crisp and clear, and she could feel herself being guided  
  
by something beyond her mortality and beyond the familiar limitations of her own mortal  
  
body. "If, in one week, we do not have an army worthy of this great challenge, I shall  
  
back down. But mark my words, gentlemen - we will have our great army."  
  
Her skirts flourished as she threw open the door to the rowdy tavern. Something  
  
welled within her soul, a source of power and self-confidence, a feeling of certainty that  
  
she had not felt while drafting up the paper that Zoisite was now struggling to stuff back  
  
into the scroll case. Her heart pounded as she strode into the heart of the tavern, her   
  
compatriots following on her ankles and watching, as wide-eyed as the other bar patrons,  
  
as she hopped up onto a chair and then a table, raising her arms for silence. Something  
  
about her manner gained her that respected, awe-struck silence, and her dark eyes gleamed  
  
as she glanced down at the men before her.  
  
"And we will start gaining our recruits," she informed them smugly, "tonight."  
  
===  
  
March 4, 1017.  
  
"'On the right of the people for...' What in the world IS this?" Her platinum   
  
ponytails whirled through the air as she slammed her hand onto the mahogany desk, her  
  
normally-calm mannerism wholly disappearing as she turned to scowl at the other woman.  
  
"Adamina, did you HONESTLY call me down here just to throw another rebel manifesto in my  
  
face?!"  
  
The dark-haired queen sighed and refused to turn around to her long-time friend's  
  
ranting and raving, even after she heard the other woman turn away with an impassioned   
  
growl of frustration. Cobalt eyes stared, instead, out the window and down into the   
  
courtyards beyond, where a boy - no older than thirteen or fourteen, really - practiced  
  
swordplay against a wooden doll. "Serenity, you know that I don't normally concern you with  
  
trivial matters," she replied coolly, turning around in time to catch Serenity, as she   
  
often did when nervous, whirl around and start pacing up and down the room. "But this is  
  
the third one this year, and by far the most eloquent. I am beginning to worry."  
  
Serenity snorted, tossing her head arrogantly as she paced, her long silk gowns  
  
whispering against the carpeting. "But they are acting as though they have no rights  
  
at all! As though you and I are evil and have taken all they have right from under their  
  
fingertips!" She paused in her pacing, hands clenching and unclenching at her side as she  
  
moved to glower at the other monarch; Adamina had turned back to the window. "Do they  
  
not realize that keeping peace in the entire galaxy is more important than their - their  
  
LIBERTIES?"  
  
"Perhaps you are right." The Queen of the Earth paused to brush a strand of curly  
  
hair from her face, unable to take her eyes off her young son. Visions of how things could  
  
have been for him had she not been lucky enough to catch the eye of his father played  
  
through her mind, and she could not help but frown. Serenity's matriarchal hierarchy worked  
  
well enough for she and the other magic-users, but perhaps she failed to grasp the severity  
  
of those who - like the young queen of the earth - had no magic, and therefore had to rely on  
  
nothing more than mortal clout. Perhaps -   
  
"Adamina, you have that look on your face." She snapped to attention as she whirled  
  
back around, only to find Serenity standing in the very center of her personal office,  
  
hands on her slender hips and baby blue eyes lowered dangerously. "You look as though you  
  
have some sharp-tongued comment for me that you can't quite formulate, so you're just   
  
staring off into space with your brow furrowed."  
  
Chuckling slightly, the younger woman shrugged and settled herself in the high-  
  
backed chair that was nestled behind her desk. "I am just thinking to myself," she admitted  
  
with a shake of her head. "I wonder how I would feel had I been just another peasant woman,  
  
instead of a king's wife. And how I would feel, raising Endymion, in this world that we've  
  
worked to cultivate."  
  
Serenity rolled her eyes slightly, a familiar gesture that, truth be told, sometimes  
  
annoyed the small, dark-haired woman. "I think you would be a level-headed, law-abiding  
  
citizen, rather than one of these troublesome rabble-rousers." She paused, pursing her  
  
pink lips, her gaze turning a bit more cautious. "Adamina, please ignore this and any   
  
other future... 'Documents Upon the Denial of Fair Liberties,' alright? I will bring this  
  
up at the Royal Council next week." Her friend turned away, and she frowned, voice   
  
straining. "Adamina, PLEASE. I will take care of this. I promise you."  
  
"Alright," she agreed with a slight nod, still staring out the window. She could  
  
hear Serenity's sharp intake of breath, as though she was about to say something more, but  
  
then the other woman exhaled and stalked out of the room in silence. This was alright   
  
with the earthly queen, after all; she knew all Serenity had wanted to say was a scolding  
  
on the fact that she once again had "that look on her face" and a sharp reply on the  
  
tip of her tongue.  
  
And that sharp reply was that she wondered if next week would be too late.  
  
===  
  
March 5, 1017.  
  
She felt the presence all the time, now. There remained no sign of what it could  
  
be, but she could feel it with every breath she took in, and every thought that wandered,  
  
idly, through her head. It urged her, prodding her, inspiring her every movement and   
  
idea. Jadeite had commented, idly, that her speech in the tavern had been more than   
  
impressive; it had, after all, coerced every man there into joining the great army to  
  
rebel against the Queen Serenity. He had called it inspired, powerful, and even divine,  
  
and honestly, she could feel the divine nature of her speech pulsing through her as she  
  
wrote a second and then a third, forgoing sleep to write.   
  
And now, she could feel the divine power pulsing through her body as she listened  
  
to her three-year-old daughter howling as her husband's voice boomed through the room.  
  
"Beryl, listen to yourself!" Pierre Allotte, a charming blond man with broad   
  
shoulders and a daring smile, reached out for her arm as he spoke. "Revolution? Against  
  
Serenity herself?! You must be absolutely mad!"  
  
She pushed him away, inwardly surprised when he stumbled backwards from the force  
  
of the blow; he stood a full head taller than her and weighed more than fifty pounds more  
  
than she, and yet his balance faltered from her powerful shove. "Look at the way we  
  
live, Pierre!" she urged him, throwing up her hands and, for the first time in the last  
  
hour, ignoring the saddle bags she had been packing so meticulously. "Our home is a single  
  
room, falling apart from ceiling to floor. Elisibeth - " She cast a quick glance down at  
  
the sobbing child. " - is the first of FIVE children to live past infancy! We have nothing  
  
to eat, nothing to grow, nothing to sell, and the only REAL possession we have is the horse  
  
from your father's inheritance! And soon, that horse will be nothing more than a rotting  
  
corpse, meat for the crows, and what will we have, Pierre? What will we have?!"  
  
"I don't know!" he admitted, his voice climbing in a crescendo as it echoed against  
  
the ceiling and wall beams of their tiny cottage. Elisibeth's screaming rose in pitch and  
  
volume as well, but it failed to matter; Beryl could feel it again, bubbling through her  
  
veins and pressing at her fingertips, begging her to do more, to say more, to be more.  
  
"But striking against the Queen of the Earth with a regiment of fifty impoverished, drunken  
  
farmers is not the way to escape our fate!" She refused to acknowledge him and turned  
  
back to stuffing full her saddle bags, and he sighed, tossing his head of light hair. "Ah,  
  
but what would you know? You're the daughter of an aristocrat who disowned her for being a   
  
revolutionary. It's only right that you keep rebelling."  
  
Her dark eyes turned icy as she glanced up from her work, face completely devoid  
  
of any emotion. "Excuse me?" she hissed, long fingernails digging into the black skirt  
  
she had been busy packing. "What did you just say?"  
  
Pierre smirked smugly, returning her coldness with a spite she had never seen in his  
  
eyes before now. "You heard me," he replied evenly, crossing his arms over his chest. "You  
  
could have lived in the lap of luxury, but you lost it for being a little too gutsy. You're  
  
just bitter that you lost your chance to be the next Adamina. After all, isn't she your  
  
cousin on your father's side? Couldn't you have been the lucky one to become a queen?"  
  
Something sparked within Beryl's heart at that moment, something more powerful   
  
and violent than she could have ever imagined, something that ran from the tips of her   
  
toes and to the crown of her head and back again, overtaking her mind and soul, setting  
  
her every thought on fire. The fire consumed her, burning her very heart, and in a   
  
scream of rage she thrust out her right hand, palm forward, eyes clenched shut in terror  
  
as well as violent anger.  
  
A shriek of pain echoed through the room, brief but excruciated, and suddenly  
  
her nostrils filled with a nauseating scent she knew too well after the years of plague:  
  
the scent of a charred body. Dark eyes peaked open to see a broad-shouldered corpse   
  
smoldering on her floor, a golden blond tuft of hair the only last identifying feature  
  
of the body. Nearby, a three-year-old stared, horrified, up at her mother, green eyes   
  
wide in fear as she backed away, whimpering.  
  
The urge to vomit, which Beryl had expected, never came. Instead, an eerie and  
  
all-encompassing calm passed over her being as she gathered up her saddle bags in her  
  
arms and, wordless, slung them over her shoulder. She could feel tears coursing down her  
  
cheeks, tears of anger and of hurt, but she did not cry. She did not feel anything except  
  
a dull, uninterested stoicism and a bit of annoyance at the stench of charred flesh.  
  
Her husband was dead, she realized in some far-off place within her mind, and   
  
her daughter, if not found by neighbors, soon would be. And she, of all people, had   
  
killed the man she loved. But this meant nothing as she fastened the bags and the saddle  
  
to her mount and clambered up onto the steed, the reigns familiar and comfortable in her  
  
hands. Death would soon be the natural state of the Earth.  
  
Death, after all, was the natural state of revolution.  
  
===  
  
March 6, 1017.  
  
"Now, it was over three hundred years ago that the original Queen Serenity - that  
  
is Queen Serenity I - founded our... Yes, Hermia?"  
  
The sunlight shone into the small room brightly, flickering on the marble floors  
  
and polished wooden desks in the small tower chamber that served as a classroom for the  
  
nine royal princesses of the Sun system. A few of those same royal princesses - those  
  
from the Moon and Venus, to be exact - rolled their eyes as the blue-haired girl lowered  
  
her hand and smiled at their white-robed teacher, a well-known scholar hailing from her  
  
home planet, Mercury. "I have but a short question," she assured the others, earning a   
  
few eye-rolls in her general direction. "It will not take too long."  
  
"Eh, just spit it out," harrumphed the Princess of Uranus with a toss of her short  
  
hair. "Class was just about to get out on time, and I want to go swimming before it   
  
gets dark."  
  
Ignoring her classmate's snide remarks, the younger princess leaned forward on   
  
her elbows a bit and peered carefully at her teacher, an inquisitive look overtaking her  
  
normally placid - and somewhat impassive - expression. "All the magical powers that are   
  
passed down through the matriarchal lineage of our planets are represented by some sort  
  
of emotion or ideal," she prefaced herself, pronunciation slow and precise. "The magic of  
  
Mercurial monarchs, for example, is rooted in the power of water. For the Moon, it is   
  
rooted in the ideal of Justice, and for Venus - "  
  
"Love, yeah, yeah," groaned the Princess of Venus as she buried her face in her   
  
hands. "C'MON, Hermia! Cut to the chase!"  
  
Her friend nodded and pressed on. "I know that popular study indicates that there  
  
are no current bearers of matriarchal magic on the planet Earth, what with the last   
  
queen having seven sons - the eldest two being illegitimate - and no daughters, but my  
  
question remains to be: what sparks the magic of Earth-dwelling monarchs?"  
  
The Princess of the Moon moaned and sunk in her seat. "Five minutes just to ask,  
  
'What makes an Earth woman's magic go boom?' I don't BELIEVE it."  
  
As the other students giggled at their friend's antics, their teacher rapped the  
  
walking stick he used as a pointer against the floor, quieting the gaggle of girls down  
  
in only a few seconds' time. "Hermia's question is a very valid one," he explained as he  
  
stroked his salt-and-pepper beard, "for within it lays the explanation for why we were  
  
delighted that Terrah had only sons."  
  
"We were happy about that?" blinked the Plutonian princess, toying with the ends  
  
of her long, dark hair as her question finished; she rarely spoke at all, and thusly,  
  
the others listened raptly for what - if anything - she had to say. "I thought that many  
  
people were afraid that Earth would fall into a state of ruin when King Endymion I took  
  
the throne, because patriarchal societies had never proven successful."  
  
Her teacher nodded, but only briefly. "Our caution was well-founded, but the   
  
queens of this solar system and other scholars were delighted at the news, because it ended  
  
the lineage of the most bleak and horrifying of the lines."  
  
He pursed his lips for a moment, considering his answer. They were only girls,  
  
young and uneducated, naive and hopeful, and yet... And yet, he could not turn his back  
  
on their questions, no matter how badly the answers would shatter their innocence. It was  
  
his duty as a scholar to support the truth and enlightenment...was it not?  
  
"Those women on Earth who channel magic through their matriarchal lines," he  
  
finally explained, impressed and yet embarrassed to have the complete and total attention  
  
of all nine girls for the first time in his life, "can only reach their powers at times  
  
of great anger... And the results, unfortunately, can be devastating."  
  
===  
  
March 7, 1017.  
  
Every moment, now, was one filled with the unfamiliar and yet warm sensation. It  
  
ran through her veins like rivers into the sea, encompassing her entire being, overtaking  
  
her heart and soul. And, as strange as it was, the feeling was comforting, like a lover's  
  
arms and a mother's kiss, protecting her from the thing she most feared:  
  
Herself.  
  
Even now, as she paced up and down in front of the humble gravestone under the   
  
oak tree, her hands a flurry of movement as she spoke to the headstone, she could feel it.  
  
She felt it stroking her shoulders and laughing at her jokes, and - while she did not  
  
understand it - she loved every moment of it. It soothed her, speaking to her, calling   
  
out...and never letting her go.  
  
"I don't understand why, Mother, but thousands of men are flocking to our call!"  
  
She laughed at herself, her long hair tossed by the wind as she turned around, her dark  
  
skirts a flurry of black against green grass, golden sunlight, and blue sky. "It is as  
  
though our document has inspired them to see the neglect with which Serenity treats us!  
  
Even as I speak, Kunzite is organizing our followers into sects and regiments, and they're  
  
listening! Even Adamina's army isn't this organized! Our success is almost guaranteed!"  
  
Sinking to her knees in front of the granite rectangle, she sighed and shook her  
  
head, brushing moss from the letters that had, long ago, been engraved upon it. "It's  
  
so strange, Mother," she admitted almost guiltily, shaking her head of long, amber-red  
  
waves. "I have never felt this way before, and it is a bit frightening... But I go forward  
  
despite it all! I fear nothing, and all I want is to defeat Adamina and then Serenity and  
  
to end the suffering of our people. Is that wrong? Is that... Well, of course it's  
  
wrong, at least by Serenity's law, but is it BAD?"  
  
She finger-combed her tresses out of her eyes and sighed a second time. "Endymion's  
  
oldest brother is my grandfather, cheated from his inheritance because of legal rules   
  
and regulations. I understand that. And that makes Endymion my great-uncle. My father's   
  
brother bore a daughter with all the beauty of the world, a woman who married the king,   
  
and so Adamina is my cousin. And yet... I do not feel guilt about ending the world that was  
  
built here." Her admittance, before, would have made her feel ill, but this time she felt  
  
nothing but an urge to get revenge, to fight on, to press forward at any and all cost. "I   
  
just cannot see this suffering go on any longer, or witness more pain and death for my   
  
people. Not when I can change these things. I just hope - "  
  
"Beryl! There you are!" She turned quickly to see Zoisite galloping up on his  
  
tawny brown steed, the reigns clasped tightly in one hand as he waved with the other.  
  
"Beryl, Kunzite wants you to come to the hill. You won't believe your eyes, Beryl! There  
  
must be over a hundred thousand men in our army, now! Some of them traveled hundreds of  
  
miles, just to fight under your command, and all are pledging allegiance to you!"  
  
The power surged, building as she jumped to her feet and whispered to her own   
  
stallion, who was grazing lazily nearby. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" She   
  
rebuked the small man as she mounted, gripping the reigns. "We must finish assigning  
  
our troops to regiments. Tomorrow, we march on the palace!"  
  
Green eyes widened. "Tomorrow, Beryl?" questioned Zoisite dubiously, scurrying to   
  
keep up with the brisk trot his commander had urged her mount to. "We won't be ready  
  
by tomorrow without a full-out miracle!"  
  
She stopped short, dark eyes glowering lifelessly at him, narrow and heartless.  
  
"Then make me a miracle," she commanded.  
  
The hoof beats of the two steeds echoed through the graveyard, their riders turning  
  
their back on a moss-covered granite headstone that only had the first name uncovered:  
  
Metallia.  
  
===  
  
March 8, 1017.  
  
"Too long, we have suffered injustice under the rule of Queen Serenity and the  
  
other planetary warriors!"   
  
Every vein in her body pulsated with this new-found power and she let it, drinking   
  
in the sensation with her every sense, enveloping herself within the bonds of a lover that   
  
had no name, a power that had no end, and a feeling stronger than anything she had ever   
  
felt before. She did not push it away but allowed it to encompass her very being. Names  
  
flooded her mind - Pierre, Elisibeth, Metallia - but she felt nothing for them, no emotion  
  
towards those faceless proper nouns. Instead, she felt power and wrath, strength and   
  
fearlessness, and together they merged to make her feel like much more than a human.  
  
She felt almost like a God, worthy to be part of the Parthenon that housed   
  
Serenity, Adamina, and the others.  
  
"Every human - man, woman, and child - has the right to a free and healthy life,  
  
but we have been denied this by the very people who are supposed to bring these things   
  
to us! Our crops die, our children starve, our houses crumble and burn, and what do our  
  
rulers do? They watch us from their palaces and sip their tea and never bother themselves  
  
with our day-to-day lives! But no longer!"  
  
More than a hundred thousand nameless faces stared at her, drawn in by her every  
  
word and movement as she paced up and down atop the small wooden platform that she had  
  
had built late the night before. Beyond the forest, the dawning sun was peeking over the  
  
hills, and soon, that same sun would light the charge of a hundred thousand nameless   
  
faces on a palace that had once been considered impregnable. Only this time, she knew, it  
  
would be seized.  
  
"Today, we start our advance on Queen Adamina's palace. It will be a grueling   
  
march, spanning two full days, but I have no doubt in my mind that you all will be up to  
  
this difficult challenge. I have faith in my warriors to complete their mission, and that  
  
includes every one of you! We march, today, for justice!"  
  
In the closest rank stood Jadeite, Nephrite, Zoisite, and Kunzite, their necks  
  
craned just to be able to see the top of her head over the lip of the platform. Not, of  
  
course, that she was concerned. No; the men who had once been her friends meant nothing  
  
now, acting only as pawns to be maneuvered across a chessboard, pawns in a board game that  
  
would end, undoubtedly, in their deaths. But what was death? Death was the end of life, and  
  
at least their lives would end in knowing they had lived.   
  
"Do not be afraid, for your leader is with you! Today, we ride not as citizens   
  
under Adamina's regime, but as equals fighting for a better tomorrow! Remember, we are free  
  
people, and no free people should be forced to live in hopelessness, no matter what the  
  
cost!"  
  
The power flowed freely as she threw her hands into the air and tossed back her  
  
long head of hair, the sensation flooding her every nerve, her every ligament and tendon,  
  
and her every cell until she felt like nothing more than a free, unalterable spirit,   
  
floating above and supporting the mass before her.  
  
And suddenly, she had a name for the power.  
  
Magic.  
  
===  
  
March 9, 1017.  
  
"Serenity, have you ever considered the possibility that the Earth lineage didn't  
  
end with the death of Terrah?"  
  
Blue eyes glanced up from paperwork, disdainful and narrowed, and the black cat  
  
flushed uncomfortably from her perch on the back of one of the room's enormous armchairs.  
  
Outside, beyond the sterile marble and well-kept wooden furniture, children laughed and  
  
played in the dimming sunlight, chasing one another around the palace gardens. "I don't  
  
mean to undermine your authority, Majesty, but..." Luna sighed and shook her head. "Never  
  
mind. I should not have said anything, especially not when you are too young to remember  
  
Aries very well."  
  
If the first glance had been full of disdain, the second was full of the childlike  
  
curiosity that the young queen often scolded her thirteen-year-old daughter for having.  
  
"Aries?" she questioned cautiously, setting down her quill as she spoke. "Wasn't Aries   
  
the name of the queen of Mars' father?"  
  
"Yes, it was." The feline smiled slightly, almost amused by the innocence in her  
  
ruler's voice. Since her creation, hundreds of years earlier, she had seen the gradual  
  
disappearance of what she would have, long ago, called Serenity's child-like naivety,   
  
but now it returned full-force, making obvious the similarities between mother and   
  
daughter. "Aries was the only child of the previous queen, a smart-mouthed and daring   
  
boy who ascended the throne at the age of ten, when his mother died in childbirth with  
  
the little girl who would have been the heir in his place. The baby only lived a few  
  
short months."  
  
"That's impossible." There was uncertainty in the normally strong and regal voice,  
  
but Serenity pressed on, shaking her head. "Magic is matriarchal. There is no way that  
  
Candice could have her powers if - "  
  
"But she DOES." Luna's expression was unusually strict and stern, which seemed to   
  
contrast greatly with her fluffy fur and bright orange eyes. "Aries married a young girl  
  
from a rich family and together, they had Candice and her sisters. And Candice's powers  
  
were fully realized from a very young age."  
  
Serenity frowned more fully, now, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her desk  
  
and her chin upon nervously-clenched fists. "Endymion had several brothers, Luna. If any  
  
of them had daughters, then the lineage could be active right now..."  
  
The cat nodded sagely, the stern expression still not fading from her whiskered  
  
visage. "I only know of one of the boys having a daughter," she admitted softly,  
  
glancing away; she did not need to look at the woman she had been advising for a hundred  
  
years to know that blue eyes were now as wide as the sun itself. "She was a bright and  
  
happy redhead, but I can't help but wonder if the tell-tale anger from the Earth lineage  
  
could run through other veins. Especially when it is only natural to assume that the bright  
  
and happy little girl became a woman, and raised a family." She paused for a moment, casting  
  
a glance down at the surface of the desk. "And especially in a time when manifestos are  
  
popping up all over the place."  
  
Platinum hair bobbed as the queen nodded slightly, her eyes glancing almost   
  
unwillingly towards the half-curled sheet of parchment paper on the corner of her desk.  
  
"'Documents Upon the Denial of Fair Liberties,'" she murmured to herself, almost without  
  
thinking. "Could this woman, this...BERYL...know the bearer of the Earth lineage? Or could  
  
one of the other manifestos be written by the bearer of the anger that could destroy  
  
our world?"  
  
She did not know if Luna was listening, and she did not care if the cat was or not.  
  
Blue eyes drifted to the window, and she stared out at the blazing beacon in the distance,  
  
the bright and beautiful glow of the setting sun.  
  
"...WILL the anger destroy our world?"  
  
===  
  
March 10, 1017.  
  
Beryl Allotte stood on the hill before Queen Adamina's palace, her black skirts  
  
ruffling in the early-morning wind. Beyond the palace and the mountains behind, the   
  
sun crested, casting long shadows across the field that stood as the only obstacle - if  
  
the knee-high grasses could even be called that - between her army and their destiny.  
  
She knew now that she was just as the other rulers were. Powerful. Strong. Eternal.  
  
It was a power that had run through her mother's veins and now ran through her own, a   
  
might to rival Serenity's, a might that her cousin - the Queen Adamina, the only queen in   
  
the solar system who could not use magic - could not claim to have.  
  
But beyond that might came a right. A right to push on. A right to live on. A right  
  
to strike against unfair regimes and support themselves, securing the liberties with which  
  
they were born at all costs...even the costs of their own deaths.  
  
A hundred thousand people couldn't honestly be WRONG, could they?  
  
Perhaps they would be. Perhaps they would go down in history as the evil, the   
  
trouble-makers and the rabble-rousers, but at least they TRIED. STROVE. EXPLORED. And -   
  
more than anything else - changed.  
  
The right to revolution surged through Beryl's very soul as she raised her hands   
  
to the sky and, with all her heart, screamed the one word she had been waiting a week, a  
  
month, a year, and a lifetime to scream.  
  
"CHARGE!"  
  
===  
  
March 11, 1991  
  
"Haruna-sensei! Haruna-sensei, I have a question!"  
  
Sakurada Haruna sighed and stopped halfway down the hallway, shaking her head as  
  
she listened to the familiar thumping of school slippers against tile. History class, by  
  
some miracle, had gone nearly flawlessly well that day, but if she recognized the voice   
  
behind her - and she was certain she did - that meant that her flawless day was about  
  
to end with a violently moronic inquiry from the one and only Tsukino Usagi.  
  
Said Tsukino Usagi was nearly doubled-over from running when she finally did  
  
catch up to her teacher, and she held up a single finger to indicate that she needed a   
  
moment. Haruna was tempted to shrug off the blonde's request and plug onward, but there  
  
was something about the fact that Usagi had a question at all that intrigued her, so  
  
she allowed her imagination to take over and waited.  
  
"Gomen nasai," apologized the thirteen-year-old sheepishly, dusting off her   
  
school skirt as she spoke. "I was just thinking about what we talked about today in   
  
class and I was kind of curious about something."  
  
"Certainly, certainly," waved her teacher, glancing self-consciously at her watch.  
  
Robert-san had promised to call by her lunch hour to double-check their date plans for the  
  
night, and she would never forgive herself for missing his call. "Now, before you make  
  
me late for my meeting, what is it?"  
  
"Well..." The girl raised one finger to her lips, deep in thought for a long   
  
moment as she mentally worded her inquiry. "If a ruling regime really WAS bad, but  
  
they were in charge and said they were good, would that really make them good? What if  
  
they simply said, over and over, that their opposition was evil and THEY were good, even  
  
though they knew that wasn't really true?"  
  
Green eyes blinked, and - though she would never admit it to anyone, even when  
  
asked - Haruna was absolutely amazed by the thoughtfulness, insight, and maturity of the  
  
young woman's question; she had honestly expected a request to explain the homework or  
  
something equally trivial. "That's a very good question, Usagi-chan," she praised,  
  
considering the inquiry, "but it's difficult to answer it."  
  
"Oh?" Usagi cocked her head to one side. "How so?"  
  
"History is often told through the eyes of the powerful, not the powerless,"  
  
she explained, resting a hand on one hip, "and is often biased to the side its being told  
  
from. You could have a completely corrupt government, but as long as that government is  
  
in control of its people and the books written about it, it can go down in history as   
  
the greatest and most utopian government of all time. Especially if its able to crush its  
  
opposition." She smirked slightly. "John Locke once said that the 'eyes of heaven' would  
  
justify revolution, and if a revolting people won a revolution, then they were in the   
  
right. But I don't know if I can believe that honestly, because there have been numerous  
  
corrupt governments that have gone unchecked, only to fall apart by their own means well  
  
after crushing several revolutions. And sometimes, they never fall apart." Slender shoulders  
  
shrugged, as if clearing her of the burden, and the teacher sighed. "It's unfair, but its  
  
the way the world works."  
  
Usagi smiled broadly and nodded. "Thank you, Haruna-sensei," she chirped,   
  
taking off down the hall in the way she had come. "That explains a lot, honestly!"  
  
The teacher nodded, watching as the girl took off down the hall. Just how many  
  
corrupt governments, she was forced to wonder in the silence of the corridor, had gone  
  
unchallenged and unchecked, only to go down in the history of the universe as fair and  
  
just?   
  
And how many had succumb to the right of all people to revolt and abolish the   
  
unfair practices, and how many revolutionaries had died trying to do that very thing?  
  
And how many voices of dissent, Sakurada Haruna pondered to herself as she   
  
wandered down the hallway towards her office, had been silenced in the name of 'justice'?  
  
The world, she realized, may never know.  
  
===  
  
Fin.  
  
Author's Notes: I realized not too long ago that the anime never really explains the   
  
origin of the Dark Kingdom, or why Beryl does the things she does. And then, I was thinking  
  
about revolution - something we were discussing in my American Government course - and   
  
I started thinking up this idea for a revolution against the reign of Serenity. I mean,  
  
we THINK it's a happy, peaceful world, but is it really? And how did Beryl come to be?  
  
This is very anime-related; the generals are just evil. They have no bond with Endymion.  
  
The end.  
  
Princess Hermia of Mercury is who we now know as Mizuno Ami. Adamina comes from my own  
  
mind, as does Princess Mars' mother, Candice. The names do have meanings if you would  
  
like to look them up. (Well, Hermia is from Hermes which is Mercury, which I think I   
  
made up. ;)   
  
Slightly AU, but eh. I wanted something a bit off, and this is what I got. 


End file.
